


little miss perfect

by brookethenerd



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:43:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookethenerd/pseuds/brookethenerd
Summary: robin buckley au based on little miss perfect performed by taylor louderman





	little miss perfect

Your name had been painfully etched into Robin Buckley’s heart since the eighth grade. Partnered for the science fair, she’d spent a blissful two weeks at your house after school making a volcano. Both smart and silly and young and not yet ashamed of it, you’d created a sparkly, bright pink and blue, admittedly incredible volcano that took first at the fair.

She loved you long before she knew what love was, long before she learned to hide it.

* * *

You didn’t make it to a party until Tommy H’s Christmas party senior year, though not for lack of wanting. It just wasn’t ever the path you were allowed to take. Your parents expected polite, put together, perfect. And you gave it to them.

But there wasn’t that much time left to do the things you’d silently wished to do for almost four years. So, one night of childish misbehavior. Bad music and shitty beer and a throng of bodies shoved into the basement.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be. Habits were hard to break, and your nerves had you against the wall watching. Someone pushed a beer into your hand at some point, which you drank more for something to do than the taste. You sipped the gross liquid until the cup ran dry and made your way to the kitchen to refill, but rather than trying to push back through the mob of body heat and music, you headed up the stairs to explore.

Four doors lined the hall and you tried them all. Two were locked, and a glance inside the other showed a couple too busy to even notice your quick intrusion. The fourth door opened into what appeared to be an empty bedroom. You stepped inside and pushed the door shut, flicking the lock and letting out a sigh. You felt as if you could breathe for the first time since entering the hundred degree house.

“That bad out there?” A voice asked. You jumped, a hand flying to your chest. You stepped further in to find Robin Buckley sitting on the windowsill, halfway onto the roof with a flask. From the easy smile on her face and the few hairs out of place, it was clear you weren’t the only one drinking.

The last time you’d spoken to Robin was for that science project, years ago. But Robin was no longer the gangly, somewhat awkward, always sarcastic girl she was four years ago. She’d grown into her limbs and seemed unapologetically herself in a way you could never dream of being.

You didn’t have a lot of choices, if any. Your parents expected little miss perfect, and you felt you owed it to them. Straight A’s, a voice that never rose too loud, thoughts and opinions that rattled and rolled around in your head, never to be spoken.

And so, whenever your stomach flopped at the sight of a beautiful girl, whenever Robin met your eye in the hallway, whenever a boy asked you to some stupid dance, you played the part you were given. Perfect. Put together.

But right now, in that random bedroom at that random party, you couldn’t remember why you’d done all those things. The only thing you could think about was crossing the room and sitting beside her.

So, you did.

“Too much BO and testosterone,” you said.

“Don’t forget the sticky beer on the floor,” she said.

“Half of it is on my shoes, now,” you said, kicking up a sneaker. Robin grinned and pocketed her flask before ducking through the window and pulling herself onto the roof. You stood frozen watching, waiting until she poked her head back through, chunks of blonde falling into her eyes.

“Coming?” She asked. You didn’t even hesitate before following.

You climbed out the window and settled onto the sloping slats of the roof. The second-floor roof was far above the yard below, separated from the drunken stragglers on the grass. Their voices were an unidentifiable hum.

The cold settled around you like a blanket and at your shiver, Robin pulled out her flask and handed it over.

“Not as effective as a jacket, but it will warm you up,” she said. You twisted the lid off and took a swig, resisting the urge to spit out the alcohol. It burned all the way down and pooled in your gut, warm - just as Robin promised.

“Y/N Y/L/N, not a big drinker? I’m shocked.”

“Oh, because _you’re_ so well known for partying.”

Robin grinned and took the flask, drinking. A drop of liquid lingered on her lip and you resisted the urge to reach out and wipe it off. You weren’t tipsy enough to blame it on the alcohol. For something to do with your hands, you took the container and took a long drag. The taste didn’t improve, but the warmth in your belly bloomed and opened, a rush of calm dancing through your blood. 

“Hey, band nerds go hard,” Robin said.

You snorted, vodka coming out your nose, burning even more than it had going down. Robin laughed, tugging her sleeve over her palm and reaching up to wipe your chin. Your stomach twisted, skin alight everywhere she touched. You met her gaze and she froze, hand inches from your face.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Her closeness was more intoxicating than any alcohol could be.

She shrugged, “not the first time I’ve had to clean up after you.”

Your brows furrowed, but realization crept up. The volcano. That stupid volcano from all those years ago. The instructions had called for an ounce of vinegar; you’d dumped in half the bottle. The volcano had done its job too well, spewing liquid in every direction in Robin’s bedroom. She wasn’t mad; actually, she’d fallen to the floor giggling.

You didn’t realize she remembered that. _Why_ she remembered it, after all this time.

“Never going to let that go, are we?” You asked.

“There are still stains on my baseboard,” she teased.

“I guess vinegar stands the test of time.”

“Not much else does,” she said, smile faltering, gaze shifting to the blank, dark horizon. She took another drag from the flask, and despite the alcohol swirling around, all of a sudden you felt cold.

You’ve spent a long time telling yourself that Robin wasn’t what you wanted. You’d done your best to rip out the feelings and shove them away. But love doesn’t _go_ away; you just tuck it someplace it can’t hurt you. It’s always there, though, and sometimes, you trip on the box on your way through the hall. Sometimes, it rips you open just as it did when you put it away.

The precariously placed walls around your feelings cracked. You didn’t care about your parent’s plans or the reputation you’d painstakingly constructed or even the fact that after graduation, you’d probably never see Robin Buckley again. You didn’t care about anything but her, closer to you than was safe on the roof.

When you looked at her, you found her gaze already locked on you, something painfully vulnerable and somewhat hopeful in her eyes.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, a hand climbing up to settle on her cheek. Her brows quirked but she listened, still in the cold wind.

“Not a chance,” Robin replied, lips curling upwards.

You closed the distance between you ever so carefully. It was the ghost of a kiss, so soft and small it could have been imagined. You pulled back slightly, trying to think beyond the flames in your cheeks and the racing of your heart. Meeting Robin’s gaze, you drew your tongue along your bottom lip, Robin’s gaze darting down for just a moment before meeting yours. Her lips parted as if to speak, but you didn’t give her the chance before kissing her again, the way you’d wanted to for years.

This time, you felt it. Slow, careful, her mouth on yours. Soft mint and lemon shampoo and the tickle of hair on your cheeks. You’d let yourself imagine what it’d be like to kiss her; you hadn’t even gotten in close. This was melting and sinking and coming alive all at once.

Robin gripped the hem of your shirt and gently tugged you closer, and you let your hands make their way into her hair, fingers winding into the strands. The night air was cold around you but Robin’s mouth was hot on yours, her fingers warm against the icy skin of your back as they dipped beneath the fabric of your shirt.

When she pulled away, Robin dipped her forehead against yours, the only spot of heat in the cold. Your heart thrummed quick as a hummingbird’s, skin alight everywhere she’d touched.

The bedroom door opening took whatever you’d been planning to say right out of your mouth, stomach tumbling, different than before, fear tightening around you like a noose. Whoever came in had left just as quickly, before you saw their face, but the mark had been made. Clearing your throat, you ducked back in the window and into the room, Robin close behind you.

Your heart still thundered from the kiss, but the moment had been broken.

“Hey…are you-”

“I’m fine,” you said. Robin touched your arm, drawing your attention to her.

“You’re not.”

You frowned, dropping your gaze to the floor. The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’m not supposed to like you this way,” you said. Robin opened her mouth to speak, but the silence hung in the air.

“But you do,” she said.

“But I do.”

Robin raked a hand through her hair, lips parting, and turned away. Nothing about this was easy, the way it should have been. Careless kisses on dance floors, not hiding, not shame.

You were tired of it all being so _hard_. You wanted to pretend, just for a while, that it wasn’t. The rest could come later.

“Wait,” you said. Robin froze and faced you, slowly, as if she wasn’t in control of her own limbs.

“What do you want from me?” She asked, not accusatory, but genuine, and sad.

You paused. “I…I want you to stay.”

“And then?”

“I don’t know. But I’d like to figure it out. With…with you,” you said. It felt like an eternity passed before she answered.

“I’d like that, too.”


End file.
